Scouts Nightmare
by ThisisPorky
Summary: -Based off of R33MIX's video, 'insanity'.- Scout has a dream where one of the classes has been changed into a demon and goes around killing everyone and draining there power. Scout is in hiding, but is there anything he can do to stop the monster? Or is this all real? Scout and Heavy fluff. Rated T for blood and deaths.


This is fucking ridicules... Why the fuck is he doin' this?! To his own teammates? It ain't right... If he's at least gonna go A-wall he might as well do it on the opposite team! Not the RED's...not his own team...

Heavy had been hung from the wall by a piece of wire...Engineer was drained of his energy... Sniper blown to bits...Demo, fuck, I don't know what happened to him...or anyone else here... Probably in hiding or already dead...

I lowered my head onto my shaking arms that were resting on my knees and tried to gather my fucked up thoughts together; why has he turned like this? Why is he suddenly attacking us? What the fucks up with him?! Oh, I know why... It was all Medic's fault... All. His. Fucking. Fault. He's the reason every ones dead. He's the reason that man is now a monster. He should have never have tested his new creation on any humans, but fuck, he just had too. I warned them all. I told them of the dangers, I did something right for once by trying to warn them. But what do they do? They all laughed in my face, told me to stop being a baby and ignored the warnings.

Fuck, they ain't laughing now, are they?

Medic made this thing that, whoever had it in there body would be untouchable for a considerable amount of time on the battle field. Of course, it was in a syringe, and I instantly said no. Then, more thoughts of it back-firing hit me right in the fuckin' face. I'm not saying he's a bad Doc at making stuff, I just wouldn't trust him with half of the stuff he made. It was a glowing yellow, and it seemed to have something swimming around in it, which made me quite sick just by looking at it for mere seconds. That's what made me think of all the bad stuff. Then, he came along, just strode into the kitchen like he owned the fucking place. Because no one wanted to get the shot, he volunteered for it. Nothing really happened when he had it, and nothing happened a minuet later. Then came the second minuet came. Still nothing. Then the third. Then the fourth. Fuck all happened, and we all decided to hit the bunks and wait to see if anything happened till morning.

It wasn't till late at night it happened. Something inside him must 'a just snapped. He first turned on Heavy, the person that went to investigate what the noise was. Quite a loud bang was heard from his room. We thought it was a BLU Spy or someone just trying to get in here via his open window. But, fuck, did I get a surprise when I went in a few minuets after...

...

...He was...j-just hanging...just hanging from the ceiling thanks to a piece of worn-out wire... His eyes were replaced with black holes and his mouth was a-gape with blood pouring from his eye-sockets and mouth...it was horrifying...I nearly screamed out loud...

I ran like fuck to try and warn everyone, but everywhere I turned, no one was in sight. I heard a noise behind me, and before anything else, I hid under something large and solid. I saw Sniper standing there, his eyes stuck on something in front of him and body shaking of fear. He was staring at someone, and in a loud voice, he slowly spluttered, 'Please, mate... Just look what ye doin'!' Boom. He was blown to pieces. My breathing was fast, like I'd just ran non-stop for five miles. And then, I saw him as he walked into a small amount of light, no eye balls and a horrid smile of pleasure plastered to his face.

Now I've been running ever since. There's no point trying to shoot it, it won't die. No matter what stunt you pull off. Trust me, I heard a lot of gun shots before I saw it again, its bullet-holes gone, like it was made of sand or something. I sighed and closed my eyes. There has to be a way of killing it. There has to be... Like a Vampire, a stake to the heart, a silver bullet for a werewolf, something for a mad energy-sucking bastard like him...

I was hid behind this huge metal box, containing goods for us. There were many more of these, and they always seemed to be right in the middle of war without a care when we were trying to protect the Intelligence or steal it from the other team. A light flickered on and off madly above me, only making my eyes hurt. It wasn't the best hiding place, but there was barely any where else to hide in this fucking base, and these damn things were sealed shut with bolts. Only Hard-Hat can open 'em and he's fucking dead!

Suddenly, bang. Something had landed on a metal box a few meters behind me from where I was crouched, hiding from the monster. My heart pounded hard against my rip-cage, threatin' to break outta my chest and run away itself if it had to stand anymore of this creepy shit. My breathing was painfully loud, and no matter how much I tired to calm it down, it still sounded like even a deaf person could pick up on the strange new noise. It got that bad that, when I heard slow footsteps on the cold metal box slowly making their way towards where I was hiding, I had to bring a shaking bandaged hand to my mouth just not to scream out or try to whimper in fright. Fuck, man, I came here for a war, not to deal with some blood-thirsty demon shit! And the light didn't seem to help, either. It was the type of light a monster can move in and out of, one flash he's there, another, he's gone, in the darkness, waiting for a prefect time to pounce and kill you.

Fuck it, I'll bring both hands to cover my mouth that was praying to scream out. I wanted to just go home, lock the doors and never come out. Fuck this shit, I'd rather be in the war we were supposed to be in than this.

Hissing noises and heavy monster-like breathing cut through the air like a chilling coldness when it had just snowed. It was him...shit, it was him... Of course it was him, for fuck sake, no one would make that much noise knowing something was here to take their soul away! Quietly, I raised my terribly shaking hand to my back-pack and slowly drew my dented aluminium base-ball bat out, bringing it to my chest with the one hand and cuddling it. After a few painfully long moments, everything went painfully quiet. All the noises had stopped; hard shoes against the cold metal; the hissing and breathing sounds had all faded away, leaving us in the silence. Oh, I know he's still here. He would never leave free bate alone.

No monster would.

Despite this thought, my breathing was slowly calming down at last, and my rips didn't ache thanks to my now calm heart. But I knew all the fear would spark up again at some point. A monster never leaves anyone behind, and I wouldn't be surprised if the demon could smell me out thanks to my fear. I brought my other hand to the handle of the bat and gripped it tightly, lifting it from my chest ever so slightly into the air, seemingly ready for whatever was out there. I knew I would never be able to make a swing, but fuck, I just want this over and done with. Gladly, my body wasn't shaking as bad as it was, but I was still shaking just a touch. Some smart-ass fucker would think I was cold.

"Come on in here,"I'd say, "You deal with this monster and I'll take your place if you think I'm fuckin' cold, ya thick bastard."

Slowly, I turned my head to the left to see if anything was there. All I saw were huge metal boxes, supposedly holding spare guns and more ammo. To my right laid the same thing. I sighed in relief.

At least nothing was there, ready to pounce out at me. I closed my eyes for a brief second. Fuck, I wish I hadn't.

As soon as I opened my eyes, I got the shock of my life. He was there...he had somehow sneaked here without making a single sound and was now here to finish me off...

I screamed and shot back, but the crate blocked my escape, as well as this fucking monster in front of me. My breathing quickened again, my chest heaving in and out as the man with no eye balls started blankly at me, a horrible grin plastered to his face, refusing to move an inch or change in time. The hat that sat comfortably on top of his masked head only seemed to add the the creepiness, and that wasn't a good thing; hats make you look cool and causal, especially a sun-hat that those super smoking-hot ladies wear on the beach. This wasn't a fucking good time to wear it!

As the light flickered, I could see blood stains all over his face. His eyes and mouth seemed to be the worst places for it, and so was his glove-covered hands that were stained in the red stuff. His teeth were like sharp daggers, pointing straight down. Some of them, anyway. Other's seemed to be wonky but still sharp which only added to the freak-ness. His suit was stained in it, too, and he didn't really care what harm he does and who he does it too as long as he gets what he wants. And all that is is power and blood-shed, knowing he struck fear into the persons heart before stricking down.

It's like something out of a horror movie...

I tired to control my hands to make a swing at him. I tired to command them to do anything than shake in complete fear and grip the handle tightly, making my hands sore. But they would not fucking move.

The grin on his blood-stained face only seemed to get wider, and as the light over head flickered much more than it did before. He did some weird hand flick thing. My legs were suddenly controlled to lay down on the cold floor. Great. He can fucking command and control people as well.

This is even worse than the war we were in...ten times worse... He slowly moved his unchanging head closer to my own, the stink of blood highly in the air, on his breath, on his clothes, everywhere. My eyes were wide with fear, my whole body was badly shaking again and my heart beat was louder and faster than ever before, but it didn't stop that thing. In what seemed like forever, our noses were touching. My breathing got jagged, the breaths of blood-stanching air getting heavier with every passing second.

His eyes were blank, but coldness and evil was shown perfectly in them. I was locked in the fuckers gaze, and no matter what I tried to do, they never broke off from them. The cold trance kept me locked in them. And somewhere in the distance, I could hear an irritating sound.

'S...Spy...?' I hardly muttered. He twitched his head to the left slightly, a few horrible bone-cracking noises escaping into the air. I decided to try again. 'Spy?' A lot more braver and louder than the last time. He twitched more again, more cracks coming from his neck. I almost puked just from the sound. I was going to say his name once more but a tight grip suddenly clamped around my neck. Gasping loudly, the demon sat on my out-stretched legs, he knees near my face, my breathing becoming harder thanks to this prick. That irritating sound had gotten louder by this time, the sounds of clanks on metal walls and something scratching on metal.

My hands couldn't move. They were stuck to my base-ball bat. All I could do was gasp out in pain and shake in fear, do small struggles and squirms as he held my neck. His head was still close to me, still tilted, the blood-covered smile still lingering there, across his stained face, still refusing to move. 'Pl-please, Spy...' I spluttered out, my cry of plea falling on deaf ears. And that's when I felt it.

A hand full of sharp claws had entered my stomach. He made me release my bat and lift my hands to his shoulders so he could get to my gut, making the job easier for him, the bat still resting on my crouch. I screamed in agony, and the next thing I hear in my ringing ears were hell-like voices and muffled screams of pain and suffering, the sounds of bangs and scratches also getting louder and louder. I looked back in the monsters eyes to see them glowing the same yellow that was in the Medic's syringe. What felt like tears building up in the corners of my eyes, he moved his claws inside my stomach in an up-and-down pattern, twitching his head more to the left, more old bones cracking as he did so. The tears ran down my cheeks, the warm liquid dripping off my chin and to my lap.

His mouth opened rather widely to revile two rows of blood-covered dagger-like teeth. And in my suddenly hazy vision I could see something white being sucked out of me into him, followed by a low and almost cut out scream. ...Wait...my s-soul? My fucking soul?!

I scrunched my eyes shut, the pain too much to take. Blood oozed out of my mouth and more tears ran down my face, his paw-hand thing still inside me. The pain was too much, like "I just want to curl up into a ball and just fucking die" pain. The bangs, scratches and screams got louder still as he sucked whatever else was left in me.

A few more long seconds later, his mouth closed, finally allowing mine to shut and breathe. The paw had come out of me and the hand had let go off my neck, but if felt no better out. It still felt like it was still lodged in my gut. It still felt the same: Painful. All I could feel was agonizing pain everywhere on my body. All I could hear were muffled screams and a horrible, high ringing noise in my ears, as well as the bangs and scratches. All I could taste was blood. All I could smell was blood.

My hands were finally allowed to drop from the demons shoulders to my dying sides. My head lowered and I coughed up a lot of blood before looking up to the bastard that did this to me, who had got off my legs and was walking away like nothing had fucking happened.

'Why...?' I spluttered out. 'Why fuckin' u-u-us...?' He stopped, cocked his head over his shoulder, a wide, toothy, blood-filled smile still there after all this time.

'I waz 'ungry.' Was his response. I looked at him with horror. Suddenly, he flicked his hand and something shiny came shooting towards me. I took a shock breath, my eyes wide. Something had plunged into my heart. Blood oozed from the wound, and I looked down to see what had just finished me off, everything going darker and hazier. All the noises from before had thankfully stopped dead.

A fucking butterfly knife.

'AHHHHHHHHHHRRRRRRRG!' Screamed the young Scout as he shot out of bed, cold drops of sweat running down his forehead. His eyes were wide with fear flashing in them, and his still-bandaged hands had been raised to his chest and had formed into tight knuckles to fight whatever the fuck was out there.

'Scout?' Came a soft voice from the side of his bed injected with that heavy Russian accent. His head jerked to the owner of the voice, seeing the Heavy weapons guy sitting in his small black desk-chair. It didn't calm him. The sight only made him more scared.

'Stay the fuck away from me, Spy.' He uttered dangerously to him, shuffling so his back was facing the wall and his body facing the bald man, eyes wide with fear and hands shaking with rage.

'...I not Spy.'

''A I don't really give a fuck if ya fuckin' Santa Claus, stay the fuck away from me!' The bald Russian started blankly at him, the young mans eyes still showing huge amounts of fear. His breathing was quick and jagged, like he'd been running for two hours straight. And on top of all that, he was shaking terribly, too, like he'd just seen a ghost. He even looked like one, with his skin pale and littered with goose-bumps.

'Look, leetle man, calm down...' He said carefully, putting his paws up in a protective manner. He understood what part of him was wrong. He had walked past his bedroom, you see. Was heading to the kitchen to grab a late-night snack to hear a noise, like someone muttering or whispering. He stopped and listened again to hear someone muttering 'no'. He found the source of the noise inside the Scouts room to see him shaking. He thought he was cold but learned it was something more. So he's been sat by his side, learning more of the words he uttered, like 'hell', 'demon', and 'please don't kill me, Spy'. He had tried to wake him up, but to no avail.

'W-wait...' He said, looking him dead in the eye that even made the Russian feel a little nervous. 'You're not dead...'

'No. Heavy here, alive and vell.' If anything, it calmed the youngster down. His shaking had calmed and his breathing was slowly becoming normal again. 'Scout, it only dream. It not true.' The Scout looked down to the ruffled bed sheets, his hands lowering.

'Y-you...you were hung...' He whispered to him. 'You w-were killed by S-Spy thanks to Med...Medic...'

'Vaht?'

'He then killed Snipa'... Blew 'im ta pieces, then drained Hard-Hats energy - or...some shit - killing him, t-too... He tortured me...' He was on the verge of tears, which seemed to break the mans heart. So much pain was injected in the kids voice in a matter of sudden seconds. So much fear. 'He made a hole in mah gut with his claw things an' then drained me...then fi-finished me off we' that stupid butterfly knife of his... It was horrible...even worse than this place, man...'

'It okay, now,' Heavy said soothingly, 'There nothing to worry about.' The youngster looked up and him before a small smile spread across his face, and before he knew what he was doing himself, he had thrown himself at the Russian, wrapping his long arms around his massive body and burring his face into his shirt. All the Heavy could do was chuckle and wrap his huge arms around him, rubbing his small back with his large hand as the Scout clung to him, is weapons belt holding bullets nowhere to be seen on him.

The Boston nuzzled his head on the mans shoulder, the horrid images suddenly filling his head again. His grip tightened as he tried to replace them with something more fun and non-scary. He even whimpered slightly, like a rabbit had just been caught in a hunters nest and the last amount of breath it had was put into wining in pain. The Scout loved his horror films, laughing at when someone was killed or shot. But now, he regrets it. Now he knows how the pain feels when someone is stabbed. Or shot. Fuck, he gets shot at in his job! It saddened Heavy how bad a single dream had got to him.

'Hey, it okay,' He said to him gently again 'Just think of things you like doing.' Opening his eyes, the kid thought of base-ball and boinking people on the head with his bat. He thought of all the good times with his seven brothers and his Ma back in Boston and how he saved his second youngest brother of eight from drowning in the deep end at the local swimming pool center. And that was something good since he was the youngest of fucking three who had just saved an eight year old from drowning! He remembered getting his first ever "Home-Run" and the first time all of the family helped their Ma out with the baking, just for the fun of it.

He tried to remember the first time he had beaten his first ever video game on the Super Nintendo Entertainment System, and when the oldest deleted it for "so-called fun", as he called it. Still fun to go over the game again, though.

It relaxed him, getting rid of the horrid images and replacing them with nice ones. A huge smile had appeared on his face, and no longer was he shaking, or breathing quickly, or heart pounding against his little chest. He hadn't even realized he was kneeling on the Heavy's lap, he was that relaxed, now.

'Tiny man feel better?' Came the deep voice of the Russian, breaking the sort of nice silence that had once settled in the room, and breaking the youngest on the team out of his happy - for once - trance.

'Uh, yeah... Yeah, a lot better...' He awkwardly pulled away, looking into the Heavy's deep blue eyes. 'Uh, thanks, tough guy.' He gently punched the friendly bear on the shoulder, making a small chuckle escape him.

'It no problem!' He gave him a soft noogie in return, which made the small one chuckle slightly.

'Yo, ya better watch it; I'm like an animal when 'a get started!'

'Yes, a tiny, leetle bunny vabbit.'

'More like a tiger, meself.' The Russian chuckled and patted his small head. It was only then then the Scout realized the position they were in. 'Uh...' He slowly climbed off the mans lap and stood up on the hard ground. 'Thanks again, for...uh, ya, the help en'...shit like 'dat...'

'No problem.'

'And if ya say anything about this ta anyone, the last thing you'll see will be stars flashin' in ya eyes!' The Heavy weapons guy - with a huge smirk across his freshly shaven face - held his hands up innocently. ''Cause I ain't no sissy...' With a quick nod, he quickly walked out and gave a small wave over his shoulder, running off to the kitchen, his stomach growling to be fed. All the Russian did was chuckle and lean back on the small chair, his fingers entwined on his large belly, the hunger of half-an-hour ago passed.

'Tiny man strong...' He said to himself.

'Tiny man strong.'


End file.
